Broken open

Saturday, December 05, 2009

Hug me

Today I got prisma glasses so I can read while lying flat.

My magazines are all about Christmas and recipes and how to decorate for the festive season. I will not make it home for Christmas, the doctors said. That makes me so sad. Looking out the window and see the cold december rain, I can't stand not being with my family. I imagine having an elaborate Christmas dinner with the family on this small bed. Not even enough room for a mid sized turkey.

A friendly nurse gives me a full body wash...exhilerating! I am able to clean my nails that still look like I've eaten raw deer, lots of blood from my head wound. They give me a mirror, too and for the first time I see my face. Tired and pale. The halo. These huge pins in my skull. But my eyes look bright. I haven't had this much beauty sleep in years I guess.

When I wake up again, the kids are here. Extremely happy to see them. My sister Maai prepared the kids at home with images of other people in halos and images of me -still asleep- in the halo. Such a caring geste.

My youngest, Hanna, does not want to hug me. I think she's afraid of the halo, of all the tubes and machines aroud me. But it feels so normal just to see them and hear them talk. They look worried and I see fear in their eyes. Mom and Jan are doing a wonderful job reassuring them. "I will be fine".

When my lungs have healed enough, I can get of the respiration machine. I write lengthy notes to the nurses asking if they can provide me with a machine that enables me to use my own lungs. These people are amazing! I get another machine and I try to stay awake as much as possible to train my lungs so I can get off the machine. I shall, I will breathe on my own.

A very gentle nurse called Gilbert is so kind to anwser all the questions I have about why I'm here. I am very grateful that he's so open and honest. This is the small story:

I fell down the stairs on sunday morning 7 AM. My lover found me and called the ambulance.

Basically, I have broken my neck, a 'hangman’s fracture', so-called because it was common among criminals sent to the gallows. It was exactly this kind of injury that left the actor Christopher Reeve a quadriplegic.